


An Occasion to Dress for

by WelpThisIsMyLifeNow



Series: Art Trades, Commissions, Gifts, and One-Shots [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), And you're darn right you're gonna support the hell out of him, Birthday, But Pap be wearing a dress for the first time, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Fluff, I hate to call it that because gendered clothes are stupid, Like wear what you want, Other, Reader’s gender isn’t mentioned, Underswap Papyrus (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:15:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelpThisIsMyLifeNow/pseuds/WelpThisIsMyLifeNow
Summary: You've noticed your boyfriend staring at dresses recently—and decide to use a birthday wish to break him out of his shell.A birthday fic for Ven :)
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader
Series: Art Trades, Commissions, Gifts, and One-Shots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1312277
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	An Occasion to Dress for

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VenomousKilljoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomousKilljoy/gifts).



Papyrus had come clean about a lot of things.

He had told you of the mind-bending stuff: the resets, the experiments, the missing scientist, erased from existence…

He had told you of the personal stuff: his nightmares, his depression, the clinging, overhanging fear that this “good ending” would be reset at any point.

He had told you of the way he felt about you: you’d confessed your feelings to him first after some time of friendship, and it’d taken some time for him to come around, that worry of the inevitable end molting into fear about getting close to another. He was the first to say he loved you—but, of course, you’d known that all along.

Whether it had been your closeness, or whether Papyrus had been bad at hiding certain things… You knew him far better than he thought. You knew he wasn’t telling you _everything_ , not yet; but that didn’t mean you didn’t _observe._

This insight into your bonefriend’s mind was exactly how you discovered one of his little secrets: dresses. 

The two of you often spent your Sunday afternoons window shopping; his brother Sans rarely let him “LAZE ABOUT” for the whole weekend, so strolling through some of the local downtown plazas usually satisfied his brother’s demands for getting the chill skeleton out of the house and moving. Over time, though, you caught the way his eyelights lingered on the particularly nice dresses that were framed in the large store windows. His normally ambling walk slowed into a near-pause, a flicker of curiosity and _want_ flickering over his face—before it just as soon disappeared, easy to miss and dismiss as a mere changing of light.

You knew better, though. 

So when your birthday rolled around—a _convenient_ time to ask Pap to, perhaps, step out of his comfort zone—you came up with a little plan. 

He had given you a sweet gift: a record of your favorite album by your favorite band, signed by the members. You had _no idea_ how he got his hands on it, but it was beyond thoughtful. After his brother had left from the celebrations, you waited until the exuberant energy of the smaller skeleton had fully dissipated before putting your plan into action.

Now, you and he were seated on the plush couch in the living room; the two of you had moved in together some time ago, and had mutually decided to make the most comfortable furniture purchase your combined income could afford. As per usual, Papyrus was settled in against you, tapping at something on his phone. While he was distracted, you chose to strike.

Opening up the dimensional box on your phone, you selected the gift that had been laying in wait. The small “pop” of the rather sizable box into existence in your hands startled the poor skeleton. 

“jeeze, honey, warn a guy next time,” he said, clutching at the center of his chest. His attention then turned to the item in your hand, browbone raising in mild curiosity. “whatcha got there, hun? another gift?”

Nodding with a full, sly smile, you offered it in his direction. “Mhmm. One for you, in fact.”

There was a breath of a laugh, and his look turned to something between amusement and confusion. “uh, honey, i’m pretty sure that’s not how birthdays work. i get _you_ the gift, i think.”

“Oh, trust me, it’s a gift for me too.”

 _This_ had his attention. His hands went to open the box—but yours paused him, quirking your head in the direction of your bedroom. 

“Open it in there. If you like it, put it on, but no pressure, alright?”

“uh, sure,” he hazarded. With a touch of nervousness that you felt more than saw—his poker face was decent in this moment, knowing you were watching—he gingerly carried the box with him into your bedroom up the stairs. 

Papyrus was, to say the least, confused.

Although you had always been the more fashionable of the two (which, if Pap was being honest, wasn’t very hard—in fact, he often purposefully wore the most egregious thing he could find for the humor), you had never suggested that he wear anything special before. You never seemed to mind even the silliest of clothes ( _well, outside of a playful groan_ ), and never insisted he dress up for any kind of date or event. It slightly mystified him, but, when questioned… you always said you wanted him to be happy, be comfortable in his own skin (or lackthereof).

It was one of the many, many reasons why he loved you.

So… he honestly had no idea what could’ve been in the box. Perhaps a silly shirt? Some groucho glasses? Or… you’d said to wear only if he was _comfortable_. Perhaps it was something a bit more risque..?

He snickered to himself at that last thought, shaking his head as he imagined you picking something saucy out. Not out of the realm of possibility, for sure.

_feeling a little adventurous, are we, honey?_

With a smirk, he opened the box, looking at what was inside-

And his smile fell.

_is this really..?_

A dress. He recognized it instantly from one of the shops they often walked by; it was one he’d seen time and time again, and often thought of. But… he’d never…

How did you know?

The reply came easily, echoing up from his very soul:

Because it was _you_. Of course you’d know. 

Papyrus lifted it up. It was a lovely sweater dress—honestly not too far off from the sweaters that he normally wore. Not _too_ much of a leap from his wardrobe, but…

Still a step over the line, crossing over to dress category. No mistake about it.

Could he _really_ …?

You were waiting patiently downstairs, flickering through some toktik videos to kill the time. If you were being honest, there was a _bit_ of anxiety on your own end; after all, you weren’t _certain_ it was something he wanted to do. The very last thing you’d ever want to do was make him uncomfortable-

A small cough from the top of the stairs paused all worry. You looked up-

He looked thoroughly and completely _amazing_.

“oh, shush,” he said, a bright hue rising comically above his cheekbones. You hadn’t realized you’d said that aloud. 

It was true, though. The dress hung without clinging too tightly to his ribs, but still outlined his form—it looked cozy, and warm, and _adorable_. Most of all though… You could see how happy he was. Though you couldn’t see his soul in this moment, you could _feel_ it calling out to you, the brightness of delight shining through his eyes, twin stars in the dark of his sockets.

You’d been right on the mark all along.

“It’s true,” you said simply. What else was there to say? He utterly took your breath away, just as much as he did the first time you saw him.

“yeah?” he asked, fidgeting slightly with the ends of the dress. You nodded, looking at him with every bit of sincerity and love you could manage to pour through your expression.

“Yeah.”

Papyrus began to descend the stairs, his hands falling from their nervous tug at the dress in favor of holding onto the railing. He was looking at you directly as he did so—and now there was only admiration and affection in his eyes, anxiety visibly melting as you returned the fond look. 

Papyrus could _always_ tell when someone was being disingenuine—and he must have seen that truth rang clear from every beat of your soul.

Once standing on firm ground of the floor, he paused-

And then in the next moment he was straddling you on the couch, causing you to bark out a surprised laugh. Looking up at him, you shook your head, lips curled in amusement.

“Too lazy to cross the room, huh?”

“hmm, something like that,” he hummed, pressing his teeth against your forehead in an affectionate skeleton-kiss. His arms looped around your neck, and you put your hands on the sides of his pelvis (where his hips would normally be), admiring the feeling of the dress beneath your hands. You felt him move down to your ear, voice suddenly lowering an octave. “or, y’know, maybe i couldn’t stand to be away from ya a second longer.”

Direct hit to your heart, a surge of warmth instantly rebounded to your face—though happiness came hand in hand with the fluster.

_There’s my bonehead._

You took a moment to shift, tilting to give him a proper kiss this time. After, a brief, sweet moment of connection—one that sent your heart thumping and stuttering in your chest—you pulled back and grinned cheekily at him.

“Does this mean I get to see you do those maid dances on toktik?”

He laughed—an adorable little snort-nyeh—and raised a brow, smile curling into his trademark smirk. “i mean, if that’s what ya _really_ want for your birthday, honey.” He gave a hip wiggle on your lap with exaggeration, the loose flare of the dress fluttering around his femurs. “i suppose i _do_ owe ya another gift since ya got me this one.”

Trading in some cheekiness for earnestness, your smile turned tender. 

“You being truly happy is the best gift I could have.”

He looked stunned for a moment—his sockets momentarily shrinking before dialating again. He then leaned down and kissed you a second time, this one _far_ more deeply than the first. By the time he pulled away, tingles from his magic were rolling over your skin, and you felt more than a little breathless. 

Still… you had enough air left over to sneak in _one_ more tease.

“Though… that dance might be a good third gift too.”

He laughed again—one of those true, happy ones—and kissed your neck, sending you into a giggle fit. You knew it’d probably take your boyfriend a while to get comfortable in his own bones, but…

Trusting you like this was truly the best birthday gift, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Ven!!! I hope you liked this, and more importantly, have the very best birthday celebrating yourself! Best dad! ^^
> 
> I'm sorry if this is a bit short, but I had a hell of a fun time writing it! The moment Ven suggested this I wanted to write it so badly. It's such a sweet idea!
> 
> A huge and incredible thank you to LadyIzo for your help in soundboarding this with me and coming up with the dress idea. I literally could not have done this without you.


End file.
